December 19, 2018, 10:06 AM
(This post was last modified: December 19, 2018, 10:12 AM by Blindside.)
Set after dusk.
The ghost swooped and weaved through the trees, wings beating with just a soft brush to bend and twist his form correctly. He was hunting; a small creature below was running and calling. He wanted it. He was hungry.
He dove down with outstretched talons and heckled the fox, making it shriek and run away from his nesting site. Good. Now perched on the forest floor, he looked about. Brown, stained tufts were clutched between his claws. He called out, a mellow and muted trill "hoo-hoo-hoo" before taking off again to perch on a branch.
From this site, he watched and waited for prey to pass by. His nest was back in the mountain, a small cleft that was pitted. It may do, but if any mate doesn't like it, he will find another. He ruffed his feathers and waited; half wondering if the fox would dare come back.
He dove down with outstretched talons and heckled the fox, making it shriek and run away from his nesting site. Good. Now perched on the forest floor, he looked about. Brown, stained tufts were clutched between his claws. He called out, a mellow and muted trill "hoo-hoo-hoo" before taking off again to perch on a branch.
From this site, he watched and waited for prey to pass by. His nest was back in the mountain, a small cleft that was pitted. It may do, but if any mate doesn't like it, he will find another. He ruffed his feathers and waited; half wondering if the fox would dare come back.
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